My One Love
by It'sMeMario1998
Summary: Bilbo fell in love when he was younger (about Marin Freeman age). This story follows Bilbo as he recites his tale to Frodo, delving into his past and awakening lost feelings of love. Bilbo/OC slight Frodo/Sam. Please read.
1. Prologue

"Uncle Bilbo?"

"Yes my dear boy?" the old Hobbit replied, glancing up from his map and peering over his glasses at the young tweenager beside him.

"Have you ever been in love?"

Bilbo stared intently at Frodo for a moment, opening and closing his mouth once or twice before smiling, a warm, forgotten feeling settling over his withered heart. Slightly amused at the query, Bilbo replied "What makes you ask that Frodo my lad? Got your eye on a Hobbit lass?"

The blush that blossomed across Frodo's cheeks made Bilbo nostalgic; remembering how he would have done the same if asked that question.

"Not exactly Uncle, just…wondering really" Frodo lied blatantly. Bilbo could see it but did not question the young Hobbit; let the boy believe what he wanted to believe.

"Yes, of course I have Frodo, hasn't everyone?" Bilbo questioned, a smile settling over his face. Frodo just continued to stare up at his Uncle, clearly pondering and wishing for a good story.

"Would you please-if you don't mind-tell me about her" Frodo questioned cautiously-not wanting to over step on the old Hobbit-although he did long to be comforted by one of Bilbo's excellent tales.

To Frodo's delight, his fellow Hobbit nodded and replied: "Oh Frodo, it was a long time ago. But you know what my dear boy; she is still as clear in my mind as you are now. I can see her whenever I close my eyes: her dark chocolate hair draping down her back, he bright blue eyes staring into mine. It's all as clear as the sun and moon in my head. I hope I never lose sight of her" Bilbo let out a long sigh, removed his glasses-placing them on the table beside him-and leaned back, sinking into his armchair.

Frodo read the signs, putting down the book he had been reading and moving into a more comfortable position, readying himself for the storytelling to come.

Bilbo pondered on how to start for a moment, leaving Frodo in anticipation, before exclaiming: "Ah yes, of course" and beginning the dive into his past.

**A/N: Hello my dear readers and welcome to Middle-Earth. I hope you like this little peak of what's to come. I was watching 'The Hobbit' with my parents and the question "Has Bilbo ever been in love?" came to me. Personally-the way Martin Freeman portrayed him-I believe he would have made an excellent husband and decided to create a girl for him. Next chapter will be in Bilbo's past and will progress as he meets and falls in love. **

**I hope you will follow, review and favorite: it would mean the world to me.**

**Bye for now,**

**-H.x**


	2. The Beautiful Stranger

The hills of the Shire rolled and tumbled into the far distance as a young Bilbo Baggins balanced a book on one knee and a half-eaten apple on the other. The century old tree at his back was rough against his tunic-covered body but the beautiful view and the solitude was well worth the slight discomfort.

Bilbo looked up from his book and glanced over the busy, bustling village of Hobbiton, before taking a bite of his almost-forgotten apple. The escape from the village was extremely satisfying to him, which his fellow Hobbits considered to be completely abnormal-as Hobbits were known for being sociable, happy and generally cheerful beings. Bilbo, however, would rather be out in the woods or on the road to Bree than in the local Ale House supping a pint of the Old Gaffer's home brew.

Although this Hobbit was not the most sociable of the kind, the entire village had a sense of respect for him, for Bilbo Baggins lived in the beautiful Hobbit Hole with the name of Bag End-a home which all Hobbits desired greatly. The fathers of young women Hobbits were always trying to catch Bilbo's attention, not-so-secretly trying to suggest he should be matched with their 'beautiful'daughters. It wasn't that Bilbo didn't like the girls, or that he didn't find them attractive, it was just that he didn't want to marry and settle down, having someone fuss over him and attempt to care for him to the end of his days; he would much rather live alone.

His one fascination-apart from the woods and wild-were the elves. Beautiful, elegant, magical creatures housed in places like Rivendell: filled with warm light and little rivers. That was the kind of life Bilbo strived for: where he could be left alone, not constantly having relatives or 'friends' visiting.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the young Hobbit let out a sigh, pulled himself up from the base of the tree and began his short journey home down the hill.

Bilbo favored this time of day; the warm light filtering through the leaves on the swaying trees; the slight cool breeze that drifted down the hillsides.

And soon enough there would be a third reason to add to that list.

* * *

"Goodnight sir" Rosalinda Proudfoot spoke politely to the drunk, disorderly Hobbit leaving the Ale House. She was silently cursing her father for suggesting she work here, claiming that if she really want to leave, he would not pay for her expenses and that she should find work and save up her money; some father.

She had longed to leave the Shire since a very early age, dreaming of elves and dwarves and orcs and goblins. The confining boundaries of the Shire were the walls of a prison in her eyes and had always longed to venture outside.

In to the wild.

Her father begged her not to leave, trying everything he could to convince her to settle down in the Shire with a nice Hobbit gentleman. She had even considered it once or twice, but then she remembered.

They would never understand.

She readjusted the hair that was placed over her ears, making sure it was still present, before continuing the washing of beer and wine mugs. The whole place stank of ale, and Rosalinda couldn't stand it most of the time. Sadly, the smell, the drunken Hobbits and the low paycheck were all inclusive to the job of a barmaid.

Thankfully, she was able to excuse herself for a moment, heading for the door, longing for a breath of fresh air.

* * *

Bilbo made his way down into the main village of Hobbiton, passing the shop and tailors on his way, his mind once again wondering beyond the Shire.

To get back to Bag End, he had to-sadly-pass the local Ale House. Usually swarming with drunken Hobbits, the Pub was not the kind of place Bilbo found the least bit interesting. His interest was drawn on this evening however.

As he began to pass through the centre, something caught his eye. He slowly turned his head.

A pair of bright blue, topaz eyes bore into his. He felt his steps slowing and his mind clearing as he looked into the orbs, framed by dark, long, straight, flowing hair. She was leaning against the Ale House, her arms crossed against her chest and a crown of flowers balanced on her head.

And she was beautiful.

Blood rushed to his cheeks and he felt his face heating as the woman smiled at him, once corner of her mouth lifting.

Feeling rather embarrassed, Bilbo nodded his head, feeling his mouth forming a smile, before carrying on up the hill. He shook his head, telling himself he must have imagined her. In his entire life, no woman-except for the ones forced on him-had shown the least bit of interest in him.

He wasn't exactly the marrying type after all.

He looked behind him quickly, hoping to catch another glimpse of those bright, blue eyes, but she was gone. Sighing forlornly, the Hobbit made the final trek up the hill, his mind this time wandering within the Shire.

It wandered to the beautiful stranger, and she continued to wander in his dreams.

* * *

It wasn't until the next week Bilbo caught sight of the woman again. He tried to make himself forget, remembering his intentions to leave the Shire, trying to block her out with Elves and Dwarves and old maps. However, he did not prevail, for those eyes met his when he closed his lids.

Every day on his way into the woods or to another village, his eyes would linger on the Ale House. He was even nearly drawn in once or twice but resisted the almost overwhelming temptation.

The smell was too much.

He was coming back from his tree again when they met.

* * *

"Dad?" Rosalinda asked cautiously, peering round the corner of her father's bedroom door. She'd heard banging. Last time that happened she had found him unconscious.

"Go away Rose" he spoke sharply, wounding her.

"Are you okay?" she persisted.

"I said go away Rose"

She considered it for a moment, but stood her ground.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong"

"It's none of your business! Go away child" he shouted, standing up from the bed and turning towards her. Rosalinda had never found her father particularly scary, but in this moment, his eyes pierced her skin with arrows and his words pierced her heart with swords.

"What's wrong?"

"You"

One word. But it was _that _word. The word she feared most of all. Blame stung.

"Me?" she felt two feet tall under her father's gaze, drilling into her body as he looked at her.

"If you hadn't been born, then she wouldn't have died" he spoke calmly, face loose and expressionless "I'd exchange you two any day"

She could smell the alcohol from across the room as she tasted the salt of tears on her lips.

"You've been drinking, you need to get to bed" she tried to move towards him but he shoved her away violently, sending her splaying across the room.

"Get out you worthless half-breed! Don't you dare touch me!" he roared. She was certain the entire Shire heard him.

But then again, they'd probably think the same.

Pulling her bruised body from the floor and heading for the door she fought back the tears as her father's insults followed her out on to the street, repeating in her ears.

* * *

It was just as outline, a mere silhouette, but he knew it was her. He watched her closely as she began to walk, then run, then sprint towards the woods by the side of the centre. His brows furrowed but never-the-less began to run himself, some kind of weird gut instinct making his legs move and pull him towards the place where she had ran to.

He sprinted across the bridge and made for the forest. When he got there he stopped, realizing he had no idea where she would be and the woods went on for miles. He rubbed his face with his hand as he mentally punched himself. Telling himself he was stupid to have followed her anyway, he turned around and, with his head bowed, started back home.

"I knew you'd follow me"

Bilbo froze before spinning around to see _those eyes_ and-despite the clearly tear stained cheeks-that cheeky smile.

* * *

**A/N: Hello my lovelies. Thanks for reading. I hope you like Rosalinda and where this is going to. Please take the time to read and review. **

**Until our next meeting,**

**-Holly **


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